


Legacy

by KitMess



Category: Naruto
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:00:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitMess/pseuds/KitMess
Summary: "All I have is her and she has me but it’s not the same and it’s not enough, is it?".A tale of love, friendship and grief. A tale of Ino and Sai.





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in December 2017. Been sitting on it for a year and a couple months. I feel like if I don't post it now, I never will, and I really love these two and they deserve so much more love from the fandom. I hope you enjoy.

Legacy

-

For most of her life, running the flower shop had been her daddy’s job – she only needed to show up on time or inform her parents whenever she wasn’t going to make it because of a mission or any shinobi related work, tend to the flowers and arrange the bouquets when her mother couldn’t. She only ever touched money to put it in the cash register (and a bill or two would go to her pockets when she was younger and needed some money for any new feminine necessity her father wouldn’t want to spend  _ his money  _ on– but even kunoichi needed expensive face moisturizers for the after mission pampering!). 

After the war ended, she thought maybe she should finally learn at least basic bookkeeping. But she couldn’t bear to spend so many hours going through her dad’s files, and the numbers on the ledgers, they all seemed to mock her tirelessly. 

He’s been dead for 16 days.

He’s been dead for 9 weeks. 

He’s been dead for 7 months. 

The additions and subtractions and multiplying numbers of the days without him.

She only wants to spend time with the flowers, because that’s where the memories of him linger. Hear his voice telling the meaning of the different shades of peonies and lillies and cosmos. See his smile on the brilliance of the colourful petals of the roses. Inoichi Yamanaka was more than his mind-reading abilities. He didn’t need words to express himself. He spoke hanakotoba.

She is still a daddy’s girl.

He’s been dead for 3 years. 

\--- 

 

“What do  _ you mean  _ you’re closing the shop?” 

Ino forgets about dinner as she stares at her mother’s lifeless eyes. Peculiar woman she’s always been, her dear old mom.  _ Brightest eyes in the whole village _ , that’s how her old man described his wife to anyone who would listen. Ino thinks the lights behind those honey brown eyes has been out ever since the war ended. Sometimes she can’t believe how rapidly her mom’s aged these past couple of years. 

Grief, she tells herself. Grief can do that to a person. It’s a wound that never heals and if you’re not careful enough, festers. The deeper the love, the greater the damage. 

_ (Her mother didn’t fight the war, yet she gets to wear the scars of her loss all the same.) _

“I can’t do it anymore, Ino. We’re losing more money than we’re making, and I can’t keep up anymore. Not the way your father did.” 

Ino frowns.

She knows it isn’t her mom’s fault, or that it is like she isn’t working her best. She has been doing everything she can, never missing a day of work for the last three years, keeping up with a place where every corner is a reminder of the husband she swore to love ‘till death do them apart and then death came too soon.  

( _ It was more than 18 years together, but  _

_ so blissfully happy _

_ they lasted less than a second.) _

But Ino is angry. Not at her mom. Not at her dad. At fate, at destiny, at Madara Uchiha and at Kaguya something, or maybe at everything and everyone. It feels as if she is losing the last piece of her dad she’s been desperately clutching to, and her hands are shaking afraid they’re already letting go. 

“Someone else from the clan can take over,” her mother suggests. 

The idea sounds too wrong in her ears, “No”.

Her mother sighs and closes her eyes. It doesn’t matter. Ino has her mother’s hollow, sad eyes tattoed permanently in the back of her mind. She lost her father, and then realized her mother’s soul had followed him to the grave. 

“I’m so sorry, Ino.”

“Don’t be, mom. It’s okay,” Ino finds her voice cracking. Her mother doesn’t even flinch, but she admires the figure of the exhausted woman who has been far too strong without the support her daughter should have provided as the weight she’s been carrying lifts off her shoulders. 

Ino lost her dad – but her mother lost half of herself.

“You’ve done enough. I’ll take over from now on.” 

\---- 

 

“We can’t keep the shop.” 

Sai sits by the counter, his sketchbook open on the top and the colours spread out as he tries to match the chrysanthemum’s orange hue. 

This is his first day off in two weeks. When he was under Danzo-sama’s command, he could spend months on end out of the village, one mission after another without complaining. He had hated the downtime because there was nothing for him to do. Now, he relishes his free time because it means seeing her. 

He isn’t sure when their story began. It was like both a slow-paced ballad building its momentum up and then a full frontal car crash. She had risked her life to save him from the depths of his own mind, offered her hand to get him out of the darkness – and he has never let go since. 

They talk a lot. Ino’s always got something on her mind. The Children’s Mental Hospital, the Interrogation Division, missions – Sai listens but prefers when they talk about their friends, or more precisely, the new friends Ino has introduced him to. There is a budding tradition of having dinner with Shikamaru, Chouji, Temari and Karui every Thursday night. They rotate places – last week it was at Chouji’s. Initially, Sai’s place had been scheduled for last week, but it had to be changed since he had to go out on a mission. Shikamaru was also busy, but Ino, Temari and Karui punctually attended. 

Sai hates missing Thursday dinners. 

“Why?” asks Sai as he looks around but the place seems… normal. Full of flowers, beautiful arrangements, the floor is clean and the buckets are neatly aligned and it smells like the most expensive perfume of the world is made right there.

Ino doesn’t answer, instead she keeps trimming the stems of the freshly cut baby’s breath. Sai is not good at recognizing his own emotions, but he’s been spending so much time studying hers, he easily spots the way Ino’s shoulders are weighed down, and her blue and optimistic eyes are droopy and downcast. There’s also a listlessness to her ministrations, like her hands are moving out of habit instead of focus. 

He tries to remember, but this halo of sadness wasn’t engulfing her just mere minutes before. They had met at the shop’s entrance, and the smile on her face when she saw him was genuine. He is sure. He always double checks if her smile reaches her eyes.

Sai approaches her from behind, slowly placing a hand on her right shoulder. She glances at him, and at closer inspection he can see she’s exhausted, the big, purple bags under her eyes the concealer cannot hide. There’s no need to ask if she’s been sleeping properly, and he wonders if this is what being burnout looks like -  or are those bags the stigma of nightmares? -but it isn’t like him to force her to speak, because she’s never needed to be pushed to talk. It’s usually her egging him on to communicate, the topics of her questions a never ending list. 

Ino wants to know his favourite everything, and in return she’ll tell him all he doesn’t know how to ask. 

(Sai didn’t even need to ask about Sasuke Uchiha. She mentioned him on their third date.

_ “Shikamaru thinks I’m seeing you just because you look like him” _ , she said.  _ “But looks aren’t everything. You resemble him, dark hair and onyx eyes that know the pain of sudden and unexplainable loss, but looks aren’t all I see in you. The fire inside you, I’m not afraid of it consuming me. I can get close and you don’t pull away, afraid to burn me. You listen, and you care, and you are kind. And I can breathe around you. For the first time since the war ended, I’m starting to remember what safe felt like”.) _

There’s only one topic she never wants to talk about.

He never crosses her boundaries, but it pains him to see her dejection and not know what to do to help her. 

( _ Is there darkness of your own, Ino? Are you drowning? _

_ Can someone like me save you?) _

“Is this about your dad?” 

No sooner than he finishes the sentence, tears start to fill up her eyes. He regrets his words immediately but before he can apologize, she is turning around and her body is leaning on him, and Sai knows, can feel, the toll of her pain, the desperation that’s eating her away. So he stands there, paralyzed and unsure and guilty for almost ten whole seconds before he wraps his arms around her, desperately wanting to comfort her and make her forget. 

Minutes fly by, they don’t move an inch. No more words are spoken. He doesn’t want to push her and she doesn’t want to burden him. She just needs to hold herself together again. She won’t break down now. She can’t. 

Sai’s arms are going numb when Ino finally lifts her head. Her eyes are red and swollen, and he realizes he’s never seen her cry before. An occasional tear on days when she feels the absence of her dad or her teacher the deepest, or after some moving memory, even once after Kiba Inuzuka told them a sad story about a dog dying. But not this hard. Not this painful. 

“I’m sorry… I can’t,” she says and he nods. Sai can tell that just attempting to speak makes her choke up. He just wants to make her feel better. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs as he kisses the top her head. 

 

\-----

“Are they closing the shop?”

Sai and Shikamaru are travelling to Kiri. Shikamaru is there on behalf of Kakashi, and Sai’s with him as ANBU escort. Shikamaru hates travelling on diplomatic missions, and he hates going to Kiri the most.  _ These damn boats,  _ he complains.  _ So troublesome,  _ Sai completes in his head. 

The pale man nods his head a crest-fallen  _ Yes  _ and the shadow genius reaches out for his cigarettes. Sai dislikes the smoke, but Shikamaru is already so upset at simply being out on the sea on their way to bloody Kiri, he doesn’t try to stop him. 

“Did she tell you why?” the Nara asks again and Sai shakes his head this time. 

Shikamaru takes a long, interminable drag (and Sai decides he’s telling Ino to tell Temari to make Shikamaru quit) and he stares off at the vast, blue, interminable and insufferable sea. 

“But Inoichi loved the shop,” he quips and Sai’s head doesn’t move but his eyes dim as he remembers holding Ino close two nights ago as she poured every uncried tear for the last three years into his shirt. 

( _ But Inoichi is gone _ , Sai wants to scream _ , he’s gone and I can’t bring him back. He’s gone as Shin-niisan is gone, to where we can’t reach them, to where I can’t ask him, and there’s no cure for the wound the departed leave, there’s no fixing the grief, no ignoring the pain. I’ve never stopped missing Shin. But I don’t remember hurting like that. I never cried. Why does she cry?  _

_ All I have is her and she has me but it’s not the same and it’s not enough, is it?) _

The cigarette consumes itself before neither of them speak again. It’s not an uncomfortable silence. Shikamaru and Sai are used to each other’s company ever since the rebuilding of the world after the war began. Naruto cheerfully calls them his future left and right hands. But is not Naruto who sealed their bond. It was their mutual love and concern, in their different ways, for a blonde-haired woman with a high-pitched voice who worries too much about them for her own good. 

_ (You won’t hurt her, Shikamaru said, an order, advice and a warning.  _

_ I won’t hurt her, Sai repeated, a promise, reassurance and a vow.)  _

“I think it might be about money,” Shikamaru breathes out, uncommonly unsure about his thoughts, but then again Ino never says anything that might make him worry for her. 

“Money?” the concept of money is so lost to Sai, who’s never ever worried about his expenses because his abilities have always guaranteed a great pay and his needs are minimal, that he blinks twice at the idea of her shinobi girlfriend worrying about something as mundane as bills. 

“Yeah,” the strategist nods. A pause, and Sai dreads he’s going to bring another cigarette out, but Shikamaru merely puts his hands on his pockets and tips his head back to the sky, eyes squinting at the sun, “running the shop isn’t cheap.” 

Sai’s still looking ahead at the shimmering waters, a weight dropping from his heart. If money’s an issue, he thinks he has enough to help Ino. If money’s the issue, he thinks he can solve this. 

_ (That’s not what’s making her cry, a voice in his head says, but he pretends not to hear.) _

\----

Kiri’s a nightmare. Not in the bloody, dark and monstrous way it used to be when their Yondaime Mizukage was alive, but in the way their devilish Godaime is as pushy and nosy as the old wives from the tales, and there’s not one day she doesn’t ask Shikamaru when he’s finally marrying the dazzling, spirited, strong-willed and incredible powerful Kazekage’s sister because she thinks weddings are such a fantastic way to celebrate peace, even if planning a wedding is anything but peaceful. 

Shikamaru’s already fed up, during dinner on the fourth day, of repeating they’re taking their time but  _ he’s very grateful for the Mizukage’s concern and will for sure take into account all her  ideas when the time come _ , that his head seems to be about to blow and he suddenly bursts, 

“Those are great suggestions, Mizukage-sama, and I’m sure my friend Sai would like your advice as well. He’s closer to getting married, you see. To my friend, Ino Yamanaka, the daughter of Inoichi-san.” 

Shikamaru is lying and Sai doesn’t know what’s worse, if the dangerous excited glow in the Mizukage’s eyes at the prospect of another wedding, or the fact that Shikamaru, who’s supposedly his friend, just threw him to the wolves, or the sudden doubt in his mind. He’s never discussed marriage with Ino, not because he wouldn’t like to – but because she’s never mentioned it. Not even with Naruto and Hinata’s preparations already underway has she ever uttered anything remotely close to “I would like us to spend the rest of our lives together as well,” even though he already wishes they would. 

“Ino Yamanaka-san! One of Konoha’s most beautiful girls, of course! The funniest, too, if I’ve heard right. She’s usually the Raikage’s local escort during our visits to Konoha, he’s grown rather fond of her.  You’re a lucky man, Sai-kun. So, when’s the wedding?,” Mei asks gracefully but doesn’t seem as interested as when she was pestering Shikamaru, until she suddenly jolts on her seat and claps her hands together eagerly, “The flower shop! She runs the flower shop! Tsunade-sama took me to see the arrangements once. They were breathtaking! You’ve got to have a flower-filled ceremony and reception, Sai-kun!” 

So Shikamaru eats the rest of his dinner without answering another question, while Sai has to humour every long, imaginative, flowery suggestion the Mizukage imagines for his uncertain wedding, and every fifth word spoken is wedding, wedding, wedding, flowers, flowers, the shop. 

The nightmare lasts for the four remaining days, and Sai’s mind is tormented by the duty to listen to a rambunctious Mizukage, while his soul aches with doubt and for the first time since they’ve been together he wonders if Ino actually wants the same future he’s already envisioned.   

( _ Sai doesn’t believe in revenge, but as he watches Shikamaru smoking quietly on the boat’s deck in the journey home, he can see why Sasuke was so easily seduced _ .)

\---

  
  


Temari’s still new to Konoha even if she has visited countless times before. She’s renting a cute, small, one-bedroom apartment with just enough space not to accommodate her yearnings for home. She still works, as the official Suna ambassador to Konoha, a rank invented by her little brother to help her move without all the hassle of the Suna Elders’ involvement. 

She maintains a routine to keep the loneliness of missing her brothers at bay. She’s going to miss them for the rest of her life, but their sibling bond won’t break, not after everything they’ve been through. If the Ichibi couldn’t, there’s no way the distance will. But her relationship with Shikamaru isn’t the same unbreakable endeavor. She knows her brothers will always be there. She doesn’t want to take the man she loves for granted.  

So Monday rut finds her at the usual spot at 8:00 am, and as a finely tuned clock, there’s also Ino Yamanaka at their usual table. It is Temari who found this little tea shop, even if it is Ino who used to live around the corner from it. Monday morning is tea and dangos morning, Temari’s favourite food to help get through her least favourite day. 

“No work today?” the older woman asks, no need for greetings. Their friendship is past the usual social niceties. Ino’s wearing her civilian clothes. She’s already half through her tea cup, and Temari wonders how long she’s been there. 

“Mmm-hh,” Ino’s response is as dull as her mood seems to be, and she sips what’s left of her tea. She isn’t wearing any makeup and her ponytail’s messy and lower than usual. Bags are heavy below her eyes. Temari thinks she looks miserable. 

“If you tell me you’re missing Sai too much, I might have to knock some sense into you,” but Temari knows Ino’s not a hopeless romantic, and Sai’s not an infatuation she’s growing out of. But she isn’t good at feelings, or at navigating romantic turmoil, so she just speaks her mind and hopes not to ruin it. 

“I do miss him,” Ino pouts and Temari cringes. She fakes reaching for the fan in her back to blow the other woman away, but Ino interrupts, “I do! I think he left worried about me, and he doesn’t do worrying good.”

“So the solution is to worry about him ‘till him returns, so at least you’re  _ worrying _ together?” it’s as stupid as those couples who find being sick together charming, “Sai’s a big boy. He’ll get through it. You should do the same.” 

The waitress brings Temari her tea and dangos. She doesn’t even have to order anymore. That’s why she likes establishing patterns. It’s less work to do down the road. Temari recoils at her thoughts. Shikamaru’s terrible working habits are starting to grow on her. Work smart not hard is such bullshit. 

_ Oh well, love does have its downsides.  _

The fact that Ino’s not making any conversation sits wrong. Temari doesn’t know anyone who talks as much as Ino does, except maybe Naruto, and she’s entertained the thought of it being a blond thing and wondered if there’s something wrong with herself for lacking the right shade of yellow that allows them to prattle on and on and on. 

( _ Temari tries to make sense of Konoha’s people, of Shikamaru’s friends.  _

_ She hates to be the outsider, and she’s a lifetime behind on their rapport and history and they all seem so close, so in touch with one another, she wonders if Sasuke Uchiha leaving was truly a tragedy since it seems they all chased after Naruto chasing Sasuke and they all found themselves and each other on the way. _ )  

“It’s not about Sai.” 

Green eyes search for the blue gaze, and she blinks because of all the things Ino could be depressed about that do not concern Sai, none come to mind.  

“Then what is it?,” Temari asks. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Temari is surprised by Ino’s reticence, but she dismisses it as weird, not wrong. It isn’t until she catches Ino off-guard, that she notices her eyes, which are usually a fountain of colour and a depiction of glee, show nothing but an emptiness that swallows the light around them like a black hole. 

It’s like a rose caught up in an unannounced winter. 

“Why?” it’s all Temari manages to say. 

Ino doesn’t answer. 

Temari doesn’t know how to insist. 

\----

Sai bumps into Sakura outside of the Hokage’s building. 

The first bridge that connected him to the world, Sakura’s friendship stuck out the test of patience, time and his lack of social skills, and she remains standing as the lighthouse that guided him through troubled waters. He finds himself looking at her the same way Shikamaru and Choji look at Ino, the seal of the family we chose for ourselves binding them stronger than blood. 

“How was Kiri?” Sakura asks. 

Like hell is empty and all the demons live there, he thinks, but won’t admit, “It was fine.” 

She chuckles. “You’re still a terrible liar, you know?” 

And then he feels at ease. Sakura is a soothing balm after his torturous journey, and he realizes there’s no need to hide from her. It’s not like he has many friends, but she still reigns atop of them all. Her gentle soul is a total contradiction of her ill temperament, but Sai would still give an arm for her. 

( _ He’s never understood whatever Sasuke did to earn Sakura’s undying devotion. It’s unfair to have her chained to the unpredictable, uncharted territory that is Sasuke’s heart. He doesn’t think about it too often, as it angers him.  _

_ Some people are just born with it, he settles with himself. The ability to provoke the deepest feelings, stir the brightest fires in everyone they touch, and get away with murder for it.)  _

“Have you eaten already?” he wonders, and her lips climb upward. 

“You paying?” she’s a ruthless negotiator and Sai laughs. It’s the comfort of familiarity, and he can afford the time to have lunch with her. 

As they walk, Sakura’s the first to mention Ino. Sai had planned to see her the minute he got back, but he deduces he’ll have the rest of his life to spend with her –

He intends to, and to the doubt consuming away his heart he keeps trying to remind it’s not words that matter, but actions. And Ino’s the one who suggested he leaves his toothbrush at her apartment first, the one who took a vacant drawer to stuff a fresh change of her clothes at his place, and if that doesn’t mean commitment and a future, then he will never know what that is, because that’s what books and magazines say.

“I’ll see her tonight,” he replies. 

So they don’t talk about Ino and they don’t talk about Sasuke. 

Sakura talks about her children, the children of war she’s taken under her wing in her psychiatric department, and Sai doesn’t miss a word. She says their names in an unrestrained way Ino never does, afraid of disturbing long gone but never far memories, and Sai is able to question her – how is Akemi doing, has Hiro improved, does Seiji really likes to draw and can he teach him – because there’s a piece of him in every single one of them, the past he doesn’t want anyone else to suffer through alone, the cure he found on Sakura’s patience and Naruto’s friendship and Ino’s love.

Sai shows her an unfinished painting of a Kiri’s beach sunset, which he worked on for the two days the boat ride back home lasted. Sakura asks about the mission, details, the stories he’s allowed to share with her and he won’t withhold, and the landscape, and how does he accomplishes to find the right shades – and what was he thinking while painting, what was he feeling, it’s a bit dark though but, could you really hate a place like that? – because there’s a part of her who holds him as the proof that even the deepest wounds heal if you love them enough. 

They talk, and talk, and Sai doesn’t even pause for a second wondering if he’s acting well, he never has to when she’s around her. Sakura laughs, jokes, and mildly punches his shoulder, relaxed, spontaneous and unchecked, doesn’t even glance at the clock because he’s there and won’t leave to God knows where for God knows how long. 

He eats dangos and she drinks black spiced tea, unknowingly – they don’t even remember how much they hate them. 

“We should meet more often,” she suggests, thinking they don’t see each other as often as they should. 

“There’s too much work to do,” he shrugs. He’s so comfortable in their relationship that he doesn’t overthink. He knows Sakura is his friend, and doesn’t need to set dates to remember because he thinks and worries and wishes well for her everyday. 

Sakura arches one of her eyebrows before sneering, wondering how she keeps getting involved with men who disregard stability and couldn’t care less about normalcy. But scheduling is not for her relationship with men like Sai, like Sasuke. 

( _ Hurricane, typhoon: no difference except for the location of their appearance. Their aftermath is measured by the foundation of their victims. Some are better built than others to withhold the raging winds, and some embrace them.  _

_ Sakura loves Sasuke despite. _

_ Ino loves Sai because.  _

_ It’s not a competition, but it doesn’t feel like a win either. _ )

“Say hello to Ino for me, will you?” 

“Don’t you see each other everyday?” 

It’s not a greeting Sakura sends. There is an acknowledgment in her words. There’s no defeat in battles that aren’t fought. 

 

\---

She waits for him, sitting at his apartment’s windowsill. Even before he turns the corner to his street, he knows she will be there. Her flowery scent, one not even Inuzuka Kiba could pick up, is washing over him, pulling him like a siren’s call. And he is happy to oblige. 

Ino jumps from the second floor, right into the spot in front of him. Her hair is loose, and she is wearing her orange shirt and white capris, her usual civilian outfit. It shows less skin, but Sai thinks it suits her better. 

“What do we have here,” she starts, her hands on her hips, slightly bent forward, “since when do I have to hear from other people that you’re back?” 

He chuckles. She acts like it irritates her more, but Sai is already familiar with her theatrics to know she is teasing him. 

“I’m sorry. I ran into Sakura just outside the Hokage building, and felt like inviting her to lunch.” He never lies, never to her at least. Maybe because he’s savvy and you can’t hide anything from a mind reader, maybe because he dislikes the idea of doing anything that might displease her. 

“And is Sakura more important than me?” she pouts. Her though act is gone and her hands move to circle his neck, finally feeling the closeness she longed for. His skin is damp, and he clearly needs an after-mission bath, but her lips take his and he responds with the same craving the distance feed her. 

“Wait, wait,” she suddenly says, trying to take a step back but his hands are already around her waist holding tightly, “not out here. Let’s get you inside. You need a bath.” 

“Do I really,” he murmurs, struggling to contain himself of kissing her more, because by the Shinobi gods has he missed her. It’s still amazing how the need of her presence feels like a never satisfied hunger, and even being together is not enough because he always needs more. 

The thing about Sai, Ino has learnt, is that he’s capable of keeping his emotions in check until he’s not. His bland, calm demeanour has developed into a mask, and he wears it most of the time because it’s less energy consuming, but once it is out, either because he is tired, or because they haven’t seen each other in days, or they’ve recently fought, his boundaries blurry. And unless she’s the one who gathers up the strength to stop him, he won’t. 

(Sai won’t hurt her or do anything she doesn’t want to. But he doesn’t care about being seen, and Ino likes her reputation as unblemished as possible.)

“Sai,” she takes one step back, breaking away from him and regaining her breath, “let’s get inside.” 

He looks confused, and dazzled, and thirsty, but she stands her ground and slowly, he begins to come down from the high of seeing her after so many days, and nods. 

“I’m sorry. Let’s go inside.” 

The moment they close the door behind them, though, her resolve is gone and he’s not so sorry anymore. 

 

\---- 

Shikamaru swings by the shop at first hour the next morning. Ino has barely opened the door when the smell of the dreaded cigarette’s smoke is already burning her nostrils. 

“Please don’t tell me that’s your breakfast,” Ino grimaces. She really wishes her teammate would quit, but knows there’s nil possibilities of convincing him by now. Shikamaru is smart and well aware of the risks. It just means he doesn’t care about them. 

“I don’t eat breakfast,” the man takes a puff and Ino scowls. The grin on his face innerves her, he’s already taunting her this early, and soon she’s pushing him outside the shop and he’s offering no resistance to her forceful behaviour. 

It’s too early to go to war against her, so the cigarette is put out before she reaches out to smack it out of his hand, “Are you okay, Ino?” 

The question comes out of nowhere, and she is left perplexed in the middle of the street. Blue eyes blink a couple of time until she finally regains her composure, bemused. 

“What are you talking about? I’m not the one who’s been shipped out to countless missions in the span of the last two months. Seriously, Shika. Old man Kakashi is overworking you.” 

It’s so like her to divert the topic, that Shikamaru doesn’t say anything but his hand reaches to take out a new cigarette. Her eyes track his movements, and for a couple of minutes, a silent battle ensues, Shikamaru’s hand in his pocket, his eyes on hers, Ino’s hand ready to slap his and her eyes threatening. It’s a game they practically invented. His provocations and her assertive answers. No one ever wins, although Chouji complains he’s the one who ends up losing every time. 

“You’re lying.” 

“I’m not. But I swear to the Shinobi Gods, if you light another one of those, I’ll rip off your head.” 

“You aren’t sleeping well,” he points at the bags under her eyes. 

“Well, Sai came back last night so…”

It’s Shikamaru’s turn to look disgruntled. If there’s one topic in the world he never wants to hear about, Ino’s sex life is it. 

He knows better than not to recognize her strategy though. 

“Nice,” he lies, “but I mean you haven’t been sleeping well even before we returned. There’s something bothering you. Tell me.” 

“Nice,” Ino scoffs back, “First of all, I don’t have to tell you anything. Second of all, I’m fine. Third of all, leave me alone.” 

And so the staring contest resumes. Shikamaru wonders how is he able to be friends with such a stubborn woman, how he’s been able to put up with her all these years.

Ino wants to curse their clans and their shared history, because be it not for the stupid Ino-Shika-Cho, she sure as hell wouldn’t be friends with an arrogant prick like him. 

Morning in Konoha is still happening around them, even if they aren’t speaking out loud, but Shikamaru can hear her voice in his head and Ino can read his thoughts. 

_ (There are so many nasty words they know that nobody else have heard them say.) _

Shikamaru knows he’s wasting his time because there’s no way he can outdo her in any petty contest. The provocations are for the fun of it, and since she isn’t stupid that angers her more. 

“I’m worried. Why are you closing the flowershop?,” he crosses his arms in front of his chest, as a peace offering of no more smoking for the time being, “I checked how many missions you’ve been doing. You’re making more than enough.” 

He isn’t one for emotional displays or sentimental words, as Ino has accepted over the years, but he’s very honest and straight-forward about his concern for those close to him. His life mission is to make sure Naruto dons the Hokage robes, not only because Naruto is his friend but for the sake and well-being of everyone he loves, and he thinks marriage is troublesome but will go through with any requisite it’s needed for Temari to be with him. 

Surprisingly to anyone else, but as Shikamaru expected, her anger evaporated as soon as his hand left his pocket, “Did Sai tell you?” 

“Yes.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Another moment of silence, and his hand twitches, yearning a smoke. Not to ruffle her feathers, but to qualm his anxiety. “Fine. Don’t talk to me if you don’t want to. But talk to someone, Ino.” 

He pauses, almost as if it is him who can read minds. 

“Talk to Sai.” 

“I will.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” 

He still worries. He pats her on the head, a reminder of a silent oath made after his Shikaku and Inoichi’s deaths. 

“I’m here.”

(In Shikamaru’s language, that’s the same as an “I love you” and he won’t say it, but he  _ thinks  _ it, and she smiles.)

\---

 

Naruto swears the fridge is clean, but everytime he opens it a stench of spoiled milk escapes and fills the room. Sai knows it’s important to be polite if you’re a guest, so he tries not to say a word but it’s the third time he’s excused himself to the bathroom because the smell is so bad, if Naruto hasn’t caught up yet at least he must be thinking Sai ate very questionable food. 

“Man, I sent Sasuke-teme an invitation for the wedding and he didn’t even respond. He’s such an idiot.” Naruto frowns, reading the list of potential guests that someone from the Hyuuga family had dropped in earlier, “I don’t think my father-in-law likes him at all, so it might be for the best, but still. It’s the polite thing to do, you know?” 

Sai makes a mental note not to touch any of the food his friend has laid up on the table for them. If that milk has been there long enough to smell like the decomposing corpse of a skunk, he can not know how good any food in that department is. 

He settles for a glass of water he pours himself. 

“Did you truly expect him to come, though? Sasuke is not the kind to like… people.” 

“Oi, you’re not one to talk about that, you know…” Naruto looks between offended and amused. It’s an incredible balancing act he’s perfected whenever it comes to people taking digs at his almost-brother, low-key soulmate, “but you did respond, right? I’m telling you, the Hyuugas, they are not taking this lightly. I’m afraid they’re gonna be asking for background-checks at the venues’ gates.”

“Yeah, Ino scolded me because I didn’t know I had to answer. I just thought the invitation was it,” Sai remembers his girlfriend going ballistic when she found the unanswered invitation on his table and threatened to break his arm if she ended up having to go alone because he RSVP’d too late. 

“You sure are gutsy,” Naruto shivers, knowing well that an Ino scolding would never be a pleasant situation, “I still don’t know how you two ended up together, it’s crazy. I mean, she’s crazy and you’re not… have I told you Hinata-chan’s so nice? You wanna know how many times she’s screamed at me? Zero! Not once has she ever threatened me with bodily harm. Man, I didn’t know there were chicks like her! I am the luckiest.” 

Sai has discovered, in time, he’s actually quite fond of Hinata as well. They haven’t exchanged more than casual greetings, but the way Naruto lights up whenever he talks about her, it makes him feel too much gratitude for the Hyuuga heiress. He mentioned it once to Ino, ashamed he wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything for another woman, but she just laughed and pinched his cheek calling him an adorable goofball.  _ “You’re happy she makes him happy”,  _ she explained easily. 

He is happy she makes him happy, he repeated to himself. That’s a debt he never thought he would incur, to feel connected to someone else’s happiness this deeply. But Naruto is not just anyone else. He’s his best friend, his rescuer. He owes everything to him. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to let him talk about his girlfriend like that.  

“You seem very happy together,” he conceded, smiling and toying with his glass of water, “but I don’t mind Ino screaming at me. Or, my name,” there was a pause, where Naruto stopped what he was doing to look at him, “you know. During sex.” 

Naruto cringes. 

“Was that – was that a pun? Was that actually a pun? That sucked, you know? Sucked. Please go back to calling me dickless if that’s the best you’ve got.” 

“Have you told Hinata yet?” 

“Tell her what?” 

“That you don’t have a dick. That’s important to women, isn’t it?” 

The blond’s left eyebrow twitched, now knowing if he should be offended or appalled by how horrible that joke was. In the end, though, Naruto settled for a laugh, bending over the table to pat Sai’s back a bit harder than intended. 

“You funny man. You very, very, funny man,” Naruto punctuates every word with a stronger hit, and Sai’s sure his back is going to be heavily bruised but he doesn’t care. They both finally laugh. 

After a few seconds, Naruto sits back up and supports his chin on his hand, looking relaxed and still a bit doubtful that this is really Sai, the boy with the fake smile, laughing with him for real. It’s quite unbelievable. Seeing how much he’s changed is one of the things that remind the blond how much time has truly passed. 

“I’m really glad everything is going well between you and Ino, though. Even if she’s scary,” Naruto finally says. 

Sai nods at first, a light smile lingering on his face, but then he hears the knock at the back of his head of the thoughts he tries to push aside but won’t leave him alone. The flowershop. Ino’s tears. The wedding. The future. Their future. 

It’s like a dam wall cracking. Suddenly he feels like the air’s become heavier. He looks at Naruto who still looks like nothing’s happening and is poking at his questionable food and looking at his rancid fridge as if he needs something from there again. 

“Ino wants to close the flowershop,” he blurts. He hoped that would relieve the oppression in his chest but it’s still there. Sai looks at Naruto almost terrified and unsure, as his freshly unearthed emotions make him hurt and bang at his ribcage like a drummer gone wild. 

Naruto, taken by surprise, blinks twice. Sai’s got a funny expression on his face, like he’s holding out on going to the bathroom again. He must truly be sick from his stomach. He makes a mental note to ask where was the last place his friend ate at later.

“What? Why?” but Naruto doesn’t want to make him more uncomfortable right now so he focus on what he’s saying, “that’s weird. Her family has owned that shop since, well, forever, right? She always talked about flowers and their meanings and boring stuff like that. It was terrible. I hated when she did that,” he mumbles, idle now, back in his old memories. Truth is he didn’t mind Ino talking about flowers. He just wished her or Sakura or anyone would have talked to him. 

Sai’s breathing deeply now, the panic that settled in getting slowly subdued, the pain scarcer. Sakura taught him this technique. Close your eyes and inhale enough air to fill a small ballon, exhale slowly through your nose. 

“I think it’s about her dad.” Sai whispers, still with his eyes closed, “although Shikamaru mentioned it could be money. But I think it’s about her dad. She cried the other day when I asked her about him, but doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t know what to do.” 

Naruto comes back to the present but is now more confused. Ino’s dad. Inoichi. He can still remember that moment very vividly. How once him and Shikaku were gone, for a flimsy second, he had lost hope. It was, after Neji’s death, the lowest point of that battle, now that he thinks of it. 

Naruto also discovers he never thinks of it. 

“Well…” he doesn’t know what to say, even though he wants to say something. “I mean, if it’s money, you could lend her some. Kakashi’s sent you to a lot of A and S ranks missions lately, and I’m afraid there’s more to come. But…” somehow he knows that’s not an issue, though. Ino wouldn’t give up her father’s legacy for just money. She would find a way to make it work. The one thing he knows about Ino, even if they aren’t close at all, is how stubborn she is, “I think you should really talk to her, Sai. Relationships are about communication,” he repeats, looking wiser than his years, the words Iruka-sensei has been drilling him with ever since the engagement. 

“Or maybe you should ask Sakura.” All the wisdom in Naruto’s face is wiped out and he scratches the back of his head, unsure again. 

But, somehow, to Sai, it looks a bit clearer now. Relationships are about communication. He should speak to her. They should talk. He should say something. That’s his duty

“Yes. I think I should talk to Ino.” 

 

\----

“Hello! Is anybody here?” 

Ino recognizes the voice immediately and tries to stand up, but forgets she’s trying to reach for the scissors under the table and ends up hitting her head hard against the top. Not a second passes by when there’s a hand rubbing the top of her head and another one gently sliding her out of there. 

“Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Chouji is looking worried as he inspects the injured area, getting her up to sit at the first chair he sees. 

“I’m okay, don’t you worry about it. It’s not a big deal.” Ino tries to calm his friend, because she knows how loving he is, how gentle, and she does not want to make him feel guilty for visiting her unannouncedly. “Actually, I am very happy to see you! Haven’t seen you in a while, huh? Between work, Shikamaru and Karui…” she drops the name of his friend’s new girlfriend with a bit of a suggesting tone and he blushes instantly. 

Ino smiles at his reaction, impatient to tease him a little bit more and make him tell her the latest news in his relationship. But although the blush stays, Chouji’s face doesn’t change his concerned expression, and the hand that was rubbing her head drops to hold her hand softly.

“I’m sorry for not making more time to see you, Ino.” 

Tho good-natured fun she was trying to get is slipping through her fingers, befuddlement setting in as Chouji looks guiltier than when he ate all of her birthday cake back when they were four. There’s no reason for him to be excusing himself for anything, so Ino rubs his back, worried herself now. 

“No reason to be sorry for. I know you’ve been busy. Hell, I’ve been pretty busy as well. If anything, I should be reaching out to you more instead, to see if Karui and you have been alright. God knows Shikamaru and you can be clueless around girls,” she says that but knows is lying. Chouji is so good around girls, around her, if anything, if there’s someone in her life she doesn’t deserve it’s him. So kind, so good, such a great friend – the biggest thing about Chouji is his heart. 

He’s still uneasy but his big, heart-calming smile finds it’s way back to his face, and like the gentleman he is – the only true gentleman she knows – he plants a kiss on her hand. It’s one of the few gestures from someone other than Sai that gets her heart racing. Not out of romantic love, but of the pure, loyal, unrelenting love, the true brother her father gifted her unknowingly. 

But the concern it’s still hiding behind the brown eyes, and in a fickle of a second, she knows. She thinks about getting angry but can’t. Unlike Shikamaru and her, where he is a match and she is tinder, Chouji is a warm ray of light to her sunflower. 

“Shikamaru talked to you, didn’t he?” she whispers. 

“Don’t get mad. He’s worried. As am I, too. We have been drifting apart the last few months, I specially haven’t been paying attention… and you don’t have to be always so strong, you know? We are here for you too. Shikamaru and me, we are. We promised to Asuma and to Inoichi and to you, before them, if you’re doubting – you don’t have to always be the one taking care of us, I know you like your broken boys-“ he lets out his childish, rumpled laugh, “- but we’re whole, for when you need us, always. So talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. Do you need help with the shop? I can help you out. Anything you need.” 

The warmth emanating from Chouji’s core, his laugh, his company, and for the first time since she’s been asked, she doesn’t even try to spit out the words “I don’t want to talk about it”. It’s not that she doesn’t love Sai, Shikamaru or Temari. Honestly she doesn’t even know why she wants to talk to Chou, but she does choke up the words, the only ones she’s been keeping so guarded inside herself, they even come out sounding rusty from how long she’s been trying to shout them out but has never been able to – 

“I miss my dad.” 

It sounds like a toddler’s plea, quietly, softly, tender like the hug he caught her in. She says the words but won’t shed a tear, can’t, because if she cries and says any more she’s sure she’ll break down irreparably. 

“Oh, Ino. I know. I know you do,” Chouji coos, holding her as if she is made of glass, the most precious possession on this earth, “It’s okay, it’s all good. No reason to be ashamed of that.” 

Ino tries to find shelter, or at least a moment of peace, and for a few seconds, she does. Chouji doesn’t push her, he doesn’t know how to, but is content to have at least pierced a chunk of her wall. Chouji, innocent, gentle, kind – he’s just there, unmovable, unwavering, unyielding. The greatest gift. 

“Thank you.” 

“Always.” 

\---

Sai stands next to the flower shop entrance, back against the wall, folded arms, uneasy. He had walked into Chouji and Ino’s chat, but as stealthy and silent as he is, they didn’t notice him. And their hug, their silence – he felt like a sudden, unwelcomed intruder. 

He caught the last words her girlfriend had said, not to him, and they tug at his chest as the voice inside his head keeps echoing

_ “You can’t help her. You’re not enough. You’re not right for her.”  _

Suddenly embattled by the feelings of unworthiness he can never completely shake out, Sai waits, marinating in a despair so familiar he feels idiotic for not having expected it to reappear sooner. 

There are wounds not even love can heal, especially not his own kind of love. 

_ Not now _ , a sudden voice chirps through his thoughts. 

_ Not now, _ it repeats.  _ Don’t give up now that she needs you. _

_ Even if you think it’s second-rate, unexperienced, feeble love is better than no love at all. This isn’t about you. You don’t matter right now. She does.  _

_ Get it together.  _

The voice, he notices, sounds a terrible lot like Sakura’s. He whips his head around, looking at the street, for any trace of her presence. Sai isn’t a sensor-type, but he could sure as hell know if she is close by. It doesn’t make sense that she isn’t. As great as a shinobi Sakura is, she isn’t a mind-reader. He’s freaking out. 

_ Don’t run to where she won’t be strong enough to chase you.  _

_ Don’t make her have to chase after you.  _

_ You swore. _

Now it’s Shikamaru’s voice, and also, his invisible but very palpable shadow-hands tightening around his throat, making breathing even more difficult. The silent oath not to harm Ino, he remembers, but would it be truly worse for her if he steps aside? He, unworthy, will never be able to raise up to what she deserves.

He, whose own heart might never grow big enough to encompass and understand all these emotions, who might never learn how to love properly, what hope could he have of mending hers? 

The clouds are closing in, the rain is setting – the sky is going black, and Sai is choking. The dam is broken and all the feelings he had forgotten are let loose, and they are overpowering him, wrestling effortlessly him to the ground, and he decides he’s not ready for this commitment. The thoughts of relationships, weddings, children, future. Those were not meant for him, because he’s too damaged comprehend them. He never will. 

_ Don’t give up _ , Sakura whispers. 

_ You swore _ , Shikamaru threatens. 

_ It’s okay, it’s all good, you can do it _ , Chouji tries. 

_ Talk to her _ , Naruto insists. 

But what kind of love is a half-hearted one? Not good enough, he tells himself. 

He’s turning to leave and forget but a glimpse of blue catches his eye, a little bush of newly cut flowers he has seen from time to time; he stops, confused, a blurred memory trying to come through but the thoughts of unworthiness and self-deprecation and loneliness push it farther away. 

A glimpse of blonde hair, blue eyes, a soft touch, their first date. 

_ “These were my dad’s favourite flowers.” _

A simple sentence, a passing thought, a confession. He remembers the sadness in her eyes, and he remembers even more the hope that shone through when she looked up back at him. 

Hope. A sunray through the clouds of grief. Sai remembers he wanted so bad to be the one who can always defog her storm of sorrow. 

The storm inside him – the hurricane – he can tame it enough to leave her untouched. It’s his duty and his privilege. It’s love. 

He takes a fistful of Forget-Me-Not’s – those little blue flowers  - and marches through the flower shop entrance.

It’s love. And it’s forever.

And it’s for her.

\----

In a place so many lives away, to where only earnest thoughts and heartfelt pleas in the middle of the night reach and deep-dreams bridge, the old teacher lights the cigarette, the vice one of his pupils – his favourite, for in this place he can no longer lie, but not to mean he loved the other two any less – inherited as the connection between them – as self-loathing, auto-destructive it was. He chuckles, shaking his head at the concerned old blond man who sits back at his place with a hand on his heart and relief on his face. 

“You worry too much. She’ll be fine.” 

The green-eyed, pony-tailed man casts a side-way glance at the unnerved man, half irritated and half embarrassed. “He needed a nudge.”

The teacher laughs. Some things never change, even in this realm of theirs, when there’s no sense of time other than when they peek through the glass windows to the world that still contained most of the pieces of their souls. 

“She chose well. You should trust her more.” 

The blond man, unsure, keeps looking down to the couple sharing an embrace, worried he won’t remember soon enough to check on them again. He feels like he had just gotten there and next time he peaked, his baby girl had become a woman. “How can you know if they will be alright?”

He looks through his own window, to a laughing, dark-haired child with chubby cheeks and no knowledge of heartbreak yet, and he gazes at the woman at her side, a resilient broken heart with a resolve of steel and an ocean of love to give still. 

“You just know they have to be.”

  
  



End file.
